


Now I Lay Me

by Daryl_Alenko



Series: Trope Challenge [3]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Garcia and Reid Friendship, Gen, Insomnia, Reid Is a Cinnamon Roll That Deserves All The Good Things, Tea helps everything, Trope Challenge, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28529160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daryl_Alenko/pseuds/Daryl_Alenko
Summary: Reid is a virtual zombie at work, slugging through his days with dragged feet and missed cues. Garcia worries about her Junior G-Man and takes it upon herself to help.
Relationships: Penelope Garcia & Spencer Reid
Series: Trope Challenge [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086479
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Now I Lay Me

**Author's Note:**

> Trope 3 - Shared bed

* * *

The Uber Goddess of All Things Digital At the BAU, copyright pending, is currently wandering the halls in search of something delicious. Normally, that would entail a trip to the bullpen to ogle her favorite Sugar Shack, but alas, one SSA Derek Morgan is currently on vacation visiting his Mom. Uber Goddess could probably have wrangled an invitation, but she has something important to do here. 

She crosses into the small lounge that the Profilers use, peeking around the door in search of her second favorite, Junior G-Man. Dr. Spencer Reid is currently sitting at a small table, staring at a paper cup with blurry eyes. The fact that she can tell that they are blurry from all the way back here is not a good thing. She takes a deep breath, silently tells herself she can do this, and storms into the room. She doesn't mean to do that last one. She had had every intention of entering in a quiet, sedate manner, but she is who she is, so there was no chance of that happening. She marches right up to the table and looks down into the cup, seeing it empty.

"Alright, Junior G-Man, what gives? I know you, Reid. You should have that cup permanently attached to your hand. Morgan says you've been spacing out a lot lately, and I would have to agree. You look like death warmed over, sweetie." Reid slowly lifts his head, bloodshot eyes staring, unseeing, for a few moments before some form of recognition seems to flicker there. 

"Hey, Garcia." Reid reaches up to run his fingers through his shorter hair, scattering his bangs haphazardly before he reaches for the empty cup. And stares at it. As if surprised that it's empty. Garcia frowns, pulls out the chair opposite him and settles in a perch on the edge of it. "Uhm .." He skips a beat, falls into a minor stupor and then shakes his head. His hand flies up, finger tips digging into his brow. "Morgan shouldn't worry. I'm fine. Just tired." When an attempt to flash a smile ends in a grimace, Garcia feels her heart leap up into her throat.

"When's the last time you had a good night of sleep?" 

"Uh ... a couple days ago?" There is so much wrong with that sentence! Beginning with the uh, the fact that it ends as a question rather than a statement, and the fact that Reid doesn't list down to the -nanosecond-, but instead, gives such a vague estament. Garcia breathes in deep, can feel the usual sense of panic nipping at her heels as it always does when major changes are happening. And Reid being anything -other- than Reid .. yeah, that's pretty major! She reaches out on instinct, places her hand over his free one and feels him flinch. But he doesn't pull away. That is also odd behavior, but maybe for the better. 

"Reid. You can't keep doing this, sweetie. You need to sleep." She's trying so hard not to nag but it's so hard not to do. To see Reid falling apart in front of her ... of course she's going to nag and poke and prod because she worries about her family. They all have their quirks and learning to deal with them has made their work family stronger. 

"I know. Trust me. I know. I've tried everything, Garcia." The Junior G-Man sounds so hollow and defeated that Garcia physically aches for him. Feels her own heart burn and bruise for him. 

"Reid." The name wavers watery on her tongue, plagued by so many emotions she doesn't have the words to express. Especially not to a genius like Reid that grew up with a literature professor for a Mom. In computers, she blows all of her co-workers away, but she is a one trick pony compared to them. They've never said so, but she feels the truth of it looming over her every case. If she were to voice this opinion out loud, every member of the team would have something to say about how silly/stupid/foolish/ridiculous she is being. 

"Just .. sit right here, 'kay? Don't go anywhere." She squeezes his hand once he looks at her before she takes off, out of the room and straight for Hotch's office.

* * *

Garcia had been a little surprised at how quickly Hotch agreed to give her and Reid the day off. If he had found the request odd, he had not shown it. Instead, he had approved in that clean, crisp way of his and she had immediately collected Reid. Had outright refused to answer his questions, had simply ushered him to her car. 

Now, they are standing in the middle of her cluttered apartment, her arm wrapped around his in an effort to keep him upright. His exhaustion is so palpable that she feels as if she should yawn on his behalf. He seems too tired for even that motion! She stuffs down the worry as best she can, sliding effortlessly into Care Mode.

"Have a seat, Reid." She urges in soothing, soft tones even as she eases him down, onto the couch. He just nods along, folding his awkward, angular limbs into some semblance of comfort before staring off into space. The sight of him going into a fugue state sends chills down her spine but she cannot afford to flip out right now.

She about faces and heads into her little kitchenette area, hands suffering leaf-like trembles as she looks around and around, nearly growing dizzy until she sees it. A splash of brilliant purple among the beige gathered there. She misses the first two times she reaches, but finally manages to grab the tin. Despite having her glasses on, she nearly collides metal with lens as she squints to try and read it. The words Kusmi and Lovely Night are vaguely legible despite the tears collected at the corners of her eyes, and she breathes a sigh of relief. She hadn't exhausted her supply, yet. 

"Only a few minutes now, Reid." She fights down the desire to call him Pretty Boy, knowing that she's an invalid substitute for Morgan, but wanting to try and cheer him up anyway. Wanting to try and anchor him before he manages to get lost in that big old labyrinthine mind of his. She knows that she would never be able to lead him back. That would take a specialist .... JJ or Morgan. 

She carefully steeps the tea, spilling a little because her hands are shaking so bad. It looks like the aftermath of an accident. She's been working for the BAU too long when all her mind can conjure is the negative. Her nerves are frayed, an imaginary itching causing her to rub her finger tips across her wrist as she counts down in her head. It's so much easier to work with computers, but she is driven to help people. Especially those that mean something to her.

She peeks around the corner, sees that Reid is still in the same spot on the couch and she winces. Had he moved at all since settling? Is it good or bad if he hadn't? These are things she should have answers to, but she's too worried and tired to compute. Her nostrils flare after some time, and she jumps in surprise at the overwhelming aroma of the tea. She quickly pulls the mesh teaball out and tosses it into the sink. She struggles to remember what to do, if she should add anything. Her first thought is sugar, knowing Reid had a habit of drowning his coffee in it, but the last thing her poor boy needs is another reason to stay awake. So, she gives the tea a stir to mix it up, and then steps back into her living room.

It's just as she feared. Reid is a statue, perched on the very edge of the couch, unmoving. A pretty boy gargoyle. 

"Here you are." She holds the cup out to him, counts the ticking seconds by before he finally reaches for it. 153. He shakes his entire body before carefully sniffing the fragrant steam. When he furrows his brows and stares at her, she smiles. "There's honeybush, rooibos, cinnamon, linden, licorice, chamomile, verbena, and pear." She carefully lists all the ingredients, smiling even fuller as he bobs his head. Is he agreeing? Or just moving for the sake of moving? She assumes the second.

He breathes across it silently for several minutes. Inhale, shaky breath out, hmm, inhale, shaky breath out, hmm. On and on the cycle goes, until his eyes are drooping and his hands are trembling ever so slightly. She can feel herself entering into mother mode, hovering without appearing to. She's ready to spring, to snatch the cup of he drops it, spills it, or anything else that might put him in danger of getting burned or drenched. But he successfully manages to maneuver it to his mouth, taking a tentative sip. 

His eyes blink slow, confused, and she has to laugh at the gentle, odd expression that over takes him. So childish with happiness, as if he has managed to discover a most profound truth in the simple taste of tea. His facial expressions never cease to amaze her. One could almost study the entire human condition through this adorkable genius. Almost. She has yet to see true anger or loathing, essential emotions for mere mortals such as herself. Were this a comic, she might find herself assuming one had to have demi-god DNA to become a profiler. She'd totally read that comic. 

"This is surprisingly good. Thanks, Garcia."

"Surprisingly? Are you questioning my ability to make tea, Reid?" She is, of course, playing. Teasing her friend, but when the corners of his mouth tug downward, she feels like an ass for speaking. 

"What? No. Of course not. It's just ... I really don't like tea, even though I've been drinking it a lot lately." She didn't know either of these tidbits. She'd have to text Morgan and find out if he knows about Reid's changed behavior, or that he doesn't like the stuff he has begun drinking. She has a feeling none of it will be news to her sweet Sugar Shack. He is so very in the know when it comes to certain members of their team. Mostly Reid. He seems aware of behavior changes even before the Junior G-Man. That's either freaky ... or really sweet. She assumes the second. Morgan cares for Reid, so it makes sense that he would observe and pay attention. Just like she tries to.

"Well, I'm glad you like this. It should help you sleep." She flinches, reaches to push her glasses up even though she doesn't need to. Just taking action to hide her embarassment for stating the painfully obvious. Sometimes, she talks without thinking. Another symptom of the human condition. 

Maybe she'll write that comic book, even if no one else might want to read it. 

"I'm not sure tea is gonna magically cure this, Garcia." Reid smiles, the action far too stretched over his tea speckled mouth, but she gives him points for effort. Her best friend tries so hard to put others at ease, to comfort and what not, but he doesn't always succeed. His family has come to understand these eccentricities. And love him for them.

"I know, sweetie. But it can't hurt. Drink up." She leans back in her seat, folds her hands awkwardly over her lap as she waits for him to finish the drink. It smells delicious, and she would normally be fixing herself a cup too, but she's more than happy to keep it for him, now. Besides, she doesn't really plan on trying to sleep in the middle of the afternoon. 

He makes an almost nonexistent hmm sound, both hands now wrapped around the cup. All he's missing is a shawl and a roaring fire, and he'd be the picture of exhausted bliss. She wishes that he would let her settle close and wrap him up in a much needed hug. But boundaries are there for a reason and she's not prepared to push their friendship to the edge. 

"Thanks, Garcia." He slurps the last dregs of the tea, before awkwardly holding the cup out to her. She takes it in one hand, before reaching out to carefully run the tips of her nails across the nape of his neck, making him shiver and yelp. But he smiles, a real smile, and she feels like an Olympic champion for that. She settles the cup in the sink before heading back out. She cuts to the side and heads to her room, rifling through her things until she finds something suitable. A pair of pajama bottoms and a simple tee shirt that an ex left behind. She doesn't even remember who he was, and that's a little sad. To be reduced to nothing more than some cast off clothes. 

"Here. You can change in there." She gently pushes him in the direction of the bathroom before returning to her room. She changes the sheets and bedspread, paces a few times, before she hears the soft shuffling of zombie feet. Well, not really, but Reid seems close enough these days. Were she not so concerned, there would have been many Walking Dead jokes. Maybe once the situation isn't so dire, she'll sneak some in. "Here you go, Spence. Fresh sheets and blankets. If you get hot, there's an AC." She points to the controls with one hand, waving the other invitingly toward the bed. Reid gives her another tired smile before he carefully climbs in. Though this was her goal, she's a little concerned that he doesn't protest at all. Usually, there would be words of apology, offers to take the couch or insistence that he should just go home. His surrender is beautiful and painful. Trusting and utterly giving up. She'll focus on the positive for now. 

"Thanks, Penelope."

"You're welcome, Spence. I'll be in the living room if you need anything. Do -not- hesitate to call out." She waggles a finger in a physical lecture before turning and escaping the room. Once again, she must battle down the desire to cuddle, snuggle, and generally hold him. It's so obvious that he needs another presence there with him, but she can wait this out. He'll either ask or he won't.

* * *

Garcia has allowed herself to be lulled into a half present state. She's not asleep, or even dozing, just staring at the TV without actually seeing anything. She had started on an episode of .. something sci-fi themed, and now some sort of evening talk show is playing. She is just leaning forward to grab the remote when she hears it. A hoarse scream of the name Tobias. It feels like an electric jolt down her spine. She remembers watching it ... the live feed of Tobias in his dissociative state, hurting Reid. She sucks in a breath, fingers jerking on instinct, knocking the remote off the table onto the floor. She's already up and off the couch before it finishes falling, stumbling gracelessly to her room. 

Reid is curled up in the middle of the bed. The top cover is tossed to the ground, a sheet twisted around his slender frame in sweaty knots. He looks as if he's being segmented by cloth, it makes her uneasy. Worries her. By the time she makes it to the bed, his hands have slid deep into the sheet, ripping it in several places as he struggles to escape from his bad dreams. 

"T-tobias, please, I don't ... I don't want it!" Reid's voice rises and drips down, echoes and waivers so pitifully that Garcia is blinking back tears by the time she reaches the bed.

"Reid ... Reid ... SPENCE!" She sobs his shortened first name as she tries to untangle his lanky limbs from the muggy sheet. She finally manages to break one of his arms free and immediately starts shaking it roughly. Reid sits bolt up right, his chapped lips forming a silent scream as his eyes dilate and then return to normal. He carefully turns his shadowed gaze on Garcia, sniffling softly. Before she can say or do anything, he lunges. It takes all of half a minute for him to completely break free of the sheet and wrap himself desperately around her.

She's pretty sure she's going to be bruised tomorrow, but she doesn't care. She carefully slips her arms around him, pulling him close as he quivers and quakes in her embrace. All she can do is rock him sedately back and forth making soft little shhhhing sounds of reassurance as she cradles him. His breathing begins to regulate, tears soaking through the tee shirt she had changed into. It feels cold and clammy, puts her in mind of doom and gloom and she aches so deeply for her friend. Wishes Morgan was here, he'd know what to do. She feels like some pale comparison that is bound to screw everything up.

"Feeling better, sweetie?" She breathes words against the hot skin of his temple, lips grazing, drawing in the sweat musk of his troubled sleep. 

"Mhmm." His voice grates against itself, the sound coming out gravel and pitch as he vaguely nuzzles against her shoulder. It's so rare to see him so vulnerable. This would be a beautiful moment if not for the pain he is experiencing. She carefully shifts under him, making sure not to dislodge him as she struggles to find a comfortable position.

"I know it's hard, but you need to try and get back to sleep, sweetie." She starts to angle him back onto the bed, but he makes a most pathetic whimpering sound. She immediately tugs him close again, eyes wide. What's she supposed to do!?

"I.. can ... can you please ... I mean ......." The more he stumbles through his awkward words, the deeper he seems to sink into her. She can feel a small smile twirking up the edges of her mouth and cannot help but press a delicate kiss to his warm forehead.

"Of course I can, Spence." This time, she helps him up, out of the bed, pushing him toward the bathroom with a murmur to wash his face. While he's preoccupied, she changes the sheets again, changes into a pair of pajama bottoms and a sleep blouse, and then perches on the end of the bed. When Spencer comes out of the bathroom he wanders over to her. Pushes gently between her legs and looks down at her expectantly. She reaches up, and with a maternal instinct, gently pushes his damp hair off his forehead, running fingers through the strands before wiping a few droplets of water off his cheek.

"Come on, pretty boy. Lay down." She rearranges the covers, smiles as he slips from between her legs to lay down. He carefully arranges his awkward limbs until he's settled comfortably on his side, back toward the centre of the bed. Garcia puts her glasses on the bedside time and turns off the light, before carefully wrapping herself around him from behind. The moment her hand comes to rest lightly on his stomach, she feels the trembling cease. Feels him take an epic breath and then relax into her.

"Thank you, Garcia." His words are sleep roughened and sticky, and she smiles warmly behind him. She doesn't often have the ability or the desire, to be the big spoon. But Reid is the type of precious cinnamon roll that deserves all of the snuggles and cuddles, and she's more than happy to provide them. 

"Any time you need it, Spence. I'm here for you, sweetie." She nuzzles the nape of his neck, feels him squirm and laugh. That laugh is enough to cut her anxiety by half, a regular miracle. He is doing better for having her here, and that makes her so damn happy. She feels selfish, but she loves to be needed, loves to be the one that can help her family. She may have been orphaned at an adult age, but it still changed something inside of her. Awoke this need to be the centre of a stable family unity. They may be as dysfunctional as every other family out there, but they are stable in their own way. 

She loves them all so much that it makes every day hurt in an amazing way. Because every time they step outside of Quantico, it leaves her a nervous wreck of anxiety and fear that they won't come home. But they are what they are, and each of them need this job to survive for different reasons. Plus, they get to help people. There is no higher calling. It makes the pain hella worth it. 

Her thoughts are interrupted by Reid making a small snuffling noise and it takes all of her willpower to quell the loud AWWWWW trying to break free from her mouth. He is adorable. Precious. A cornerstone of their family that they would not survive without. When Gideon left, it felt a little like the end of days, especially for Spence. But they managed to rebound, to rebuild. If Reid left? She and Morgan might be beyond saving. They would eventually fade, bringing the toll to three, and maybe it's a little conceited, but she thinks the team wouldn't survive without them.

Bad Garcia. She mentally scolds, sighing silently as she closes her eyes. She's not used to sharing a bed. The few long term relationships she has experienced, had been odd in their own little ways. She either hated being held, because she ended up feeling smothered in her own bed, or there would be too much heat between them and sweat left her feeling tacky and frustrated. She's the type that is just as active in sleep as she is in life. Constantly moving, stretching, tossing and turning. There have been several occasions when she started at the head of the bed and ended at the foot. She usually laughed at herself and gave it no second thought. Unfortunately, two relationships ended over it. She was accused of being too hard to handle for constantly moving. 

So, she is expecting this to be ... bad. She expects to cling to Reid for his well being, while silently cursing all the ways that she'll be uncomfortable. Holding Reid should cause cramps from an action she's not used to. Should cause a build up of heat and sweat that will leave her feeling gross, craving a shower. She should be swimming in frustration, struggling to try and sleep.

Imagine her vague sense of surprise when she transitions from awake to asleep between two breaths.

* * *

When Garcia awakes around 10 the next morning, she finds a note on Reid's pillow. The bed is still vaguely warm, and she smiles.

_**"Penelope,** _

_**Thank you for everything. I think that's the best sleep I've had in over a year. I'm not sure what I did to deserve your friendship, but I'm glad I have it.** _

_**Love,  
Spence"** _

She giggles softly, tucks the note into her bedside table and starfishes across her bed with a happy sigh. 

**Fin**


End file.
